The New Girl
by Fire The Canon
Summary: Tom never bothered to make friends with the other children in the orphanage, because he was different. And he thought he was the only one. That was until SHE came along. Rated T just in case. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: This is written for Miss. Caroline Potter. It is my first attempt at writing Tom/Hermione, but strangely, I found it rather...fun. It's completely AU, which I hope is okay and I would love to hear your opinions. _**

**_And to Miss. Caroline Potter...I REALLY hope you like it. I hope it was what you were after._**

**_I own nothing._**

**The New Girl**

There had been many children Tom had seen come and go from the orphanage and all were just as bad as each other. They were either really small and easy for him to pick on, or really big and would beat him up if he came too close to them. But no matter who they were, they always managed to leave with a family.

He, however, had only known one place. He had only ever slept in one bed in the same, bleak room with grey walls and a small window which overlooked the busy streets of London. Day in and day out, he would sit on his bed and watch the other children play with one other, avoiding him because he was different.

But he knew why he was different now. He had magic. All those times he had been able to lock Billy Hogan in the storage cupboard without a key, or the time he had been punished because Jane Lawrence claimed he had turned her hair orange, he now understood why.

Professor Dumbledore told him he was a wizard. He had also said that he wasn't the only one, but Tom hadn't believed him. No one else could do what he could do. Well, not until _she_ came.

Seven days after the Hogwarts headmaster had visited him a girl of the same age showed up. She was small and thin with overly large teeth and bushy, brown hair, but she looked well fed and as happy as someone who was in an orphanage could be. At first he thought her to be another ordinary girl who was parentless like him, but she was quick to tell him her parents had abandoned her because she was different.

"Different how?" he has asked curiously. Were there indeed others out there like him?

"I got a letter the other day from an owl," she continued. Tom's heart began to race with excitement. This was sounding all too familiar. "It was an acceptance letter into some school called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It turns out all those strange things I could do when I was younger were because I have magic."

"So why are you here, then?" Tom questioned.

"My mum and dad didn't want to have a daughter who was a witch, so they dropped me off here and said they hoped someone who was okay with me being different would take me in. I don't think I will see them again." A strange feeling of pity hit Tom. This girl seemed to be the same as him in many ways. Different to most and without parents.

"I have magic too!" he exclaimed, trying to cheer her up. "And I am going to Hogwarts."

Her brown eyes widened with excitement. "Really?" she asked.

He nodded, smiling at her. "I'm Tom, Tom Riddle." And he did something he had never bothered to do with any other child who had come to live at the orphanage – he held out his hand in greeting.

She accepted his offer of friendship with a warm smile and introduced herself as Hermione Granger. He quite liked that name, he decided. It suited her.

"Are your parents Muggles too?" she asked.

Tom shrugged. "I don't know anything about them. I have lived here my whole life."

This time it was her turn to show him pity. "Oh, that's sad," she said.

"I don't mind," he continued. "I've always been different to everyone else. I think I will like this magic school. I want to learn how to use magic. That way I can scare the others when they don't want to play with me."

Hermione frowned. "I don't think scaring them is a good idea," she said as if she knew she was right. "Or using magic on them. Apparently we're not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts. I read that somewhere."

Tom was amazed at how much she already knew, especially if her parents didn't have any magic.

For the rest of the summer, Tom barely let Hermione out of his sight. She was his only friend he had ever had and she was really smart. Together – and much to the disapproval of the other students and grown-ups – they studied spells and read up on everything Hermione thought they would need to know. By the time the first of September came, he was feeling rather confident and happy.

Not only did he have a best friend who was like him and was able to tell him everything he needed to know, but he would be starting at a school for magic people; for people like him. There, he wouldn't be classed as a freak and neither would Hermione. She was the only decent girl who had ever come to the orphanage and returning after the school term ended didn't seem so dreadful anymore.

Visions of terrorising the other children with the magic they would know made his stomach flutter with glee. He would be someone they would fear, not someone they would tease and call a freak. The idea appealed to him greatly.

"I hope I get in a good House!" Hermione said in a panic as she flicked through the book, _Hogwarts, A History_ for what felt like the hundredth time. They were on the Hogwarts Express...on their way to Hogwarts! "Ravenclaw looks good. Or maybe Gryffindor," she turned her eyes onto him hopefully. "What House are you hoping for?"

Tom only had one answer. "Slytherin."

She gasped. "But that sounds like such an awful House to be in," she said in disbelief. "All witches and wizards turn bad who are in Slytherin. Didn't you read that?"

Tom shrugged. He had read that, but that didn't concern him. What appealed to him was the power and glory being in Slytherin would gain him. "That's what I want," he said.

"But I was hoping we would be in the same House," Hermione said with a sadness that made Tom realise she, too, considered him her only friend.

"We can be in Slytherin together," he suggested. He wanted desperately to be in the same Hogwarts House as his only friend, but he wanted to be in Slytherin just as much. He _needed_ to be in Slytherin.

Hermione shook her head. "Absolutely not. Anyway, just because we want to be in a House, doesn't mean we will be put in there. The Sorting Hat will choose for us. You're really smart, you might be in Ravenclaw."

Tom suppressed an urge to protest. He didn't want to turn her against him. Not Hermione.

The rest of the train ride was spent discussing what they might learn at Hogwarts. Hermione was worrying about not being able to perform the spells they would be asked to use, while Tom tried to assure her that she would be okay and picturing himself as the most popular student there at the same time.

When it finally slowed down, it was dark and gloomy and students began to pile onto the small platform. Most were a lot bigger than either he or Hermione and they were all laughing with each other. Hermione gripped his arm nervously.

"Oh no," she whimpered. "Where do we go? I heard first years arrive differently to the others."

But she needn't worry, because a short and bald man was soon directing all first years to follow him. A dull lamp in his hand was the only light.

There were about forty other first years and it was a comfort to Tom to see they were also looking afraid. He wondered how many others had only just found out they had magic and weren't freaks. Already he could see who his friends might be. He didn't like the ones who looked smug and confident.

The bald man who had introduced himself as Professor Cherrybottom led the first years to a huge lake where small boats floated gracefully on top. The castle they had only read about stood hundreds – maybe even thousands – of feet above them. It was everything Tom had imagined it to be and more. Already, it felt like home.

"Ohhh, look," Hermione said in awe, gazing up at the giant castle. "It's wonderful."

"It's out new home, Hermione," Tom replied gleefully.

She turned to him, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Home," she repeated as if testing it out.

Tom smiled. Finally, he had somewhere he felt like he belonged. Hogwarts was his home now and he had Hermione – the abandoned girl who he was so grateful for stumbling into his orphanage – there with him. She was pretty and she was smart and he couldn't imagine starting his new life with a better person. It was like it had always meant to be.


	2. Chapter 2

_**I have decided to make this a multi-chapter fic due to popular demand. When I wrote this, I had absolutely no intention of continuing it, but seeing as so many of you asked for it to continue and I was momentarily inspired yesterday to write a second chapter, I did. I can't promise it's going to be updated regularly. It might only be once every few months - when I have time and I am inspired. But I will continue it now that I have started :)**_

_**I don't own any Harry Potter other than this plot.**_

_**I hope you enjoy and please leave a review. I'd really like that.**_

* * *

The first years were lead through the giant doors of the castle. Tom couldn't believe it. All the pictures they had seen, everything they had read about their new home... it was nothing compared to the real thing.

Hermione clutched his arm nervously as they followed Professor Cherrybottom through the Entrance Hall and up a huge staircase.

"Remember, they move," Hermione whispered to him matter-of-factly.

Behind them, two girls giggled. Tom spun around, giving them a deathly stare. This was not the time to be laughing. They had the Sorting to do and then they had to be shown to their dormitories.

Then the next day, they would begin their lessons. Tom couldn't wait to see what Defence Against the Dark Arts was about. That was the subject he had read the most about and been the most interested in.

Professor Cherrybottom's bald head bobbed in and out of sight as the forty terrified eleven year olds followed him up another flight of stairs and to the right. He stopped out the front of another door, gave them a fleeting smile and then disappeared through it.

"What's happening?" Tom wondered out loud.

Hermione answered. "I don't know, but I hope they do something soon. I'm so nervous!" she was standing on her tip-toes, trying to get a glimpse over all the heads of the taller first years.

The silence was soon filled with whispers of fear and excitement. Tom didn't say a word. He waited silently for something to happen – something _had_ to happen.

Sure enough, moments later, a wizard dressed in elegant robes and a long beard appeared.

_Dumbledore_, Tom thought.

Professor Dumbledore studied the group of first years through his half-moon spectacles, his eyes looking at every student in detail. They settled on Tom for a moment longer and he fluttered a small smile.

Tom returned the smile. Dumbledore made him feel more at home.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, first years," he began with a kind voice. Tom didn't remember him talking like that when he had visited the orphanage. He had been there on business, then. "I am Professor Dumbledore, Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In a few moments, you will be walking through the Great Hall, where you will be sorted into your Houses."

It was as if he was reading from a sheet of paper – or parchment as they called it here – but he didn't have any.

"They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

A feeling of excitement overcame Tom as Dumbledore mentioned Slytherin. He wanted to be in that House so bad. He hoped the Sorting Hat would put him there. And he hoped it would think Hermione was a Slytherin too. He needed to be with her.

"Each House have their own qualities and it will become your family for the next seven years. There, you will make friends, spend your spare time and simply... enjoy Hogwarts." Dumbledore gave the group another warm smile and then the doors open.

Hermione was now practically jumping to try and get a glimpse of the inside. She sighed in awe.

"It's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Look." She pointed to the roof as they followed Dumbledore through the gigantic doors. Above them was a clear, night sky, with stars above them – perfectly reflecting what had been outside. "I knew it!"

Tom wasn't interested in the ceiling. He was looking around at the four tables. There were so many students there; students who knew more than he did. He didn't like that. He wanted to know more than them. He wanted to be the best!

In front, was another table, which played host to a group of older looking people. They must have been the teachers. Tom wondered which one was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He really wanted to meet them.

"Gather round, gather round, please," Dumbledore said cheerfully.

The first years bunched up as Dumbledore placed an old hat on a three-legged stool.

"_That's_ the Sorting Hat?" Tom questioned, disappointed. He had been expecting some elegant, fancy looking hat, not one that looked like something he would be given in the orphanage.

"Isn't it amazing?" Hermione replied.

Tom didn't think amazing was the right word, but he didn't say anything.

One by one, Dumbledore called students up to be Sorted. The first – somebody Bones – was sorted into Ravenclaw. Then Carmody was put into Gryffindor. Tom smiled when Carrow was put in Slytherin. Finally, someone he could be friends with.

Crawley was in Ravenclaw, Diggins in Hufflepuff.

"Granger, Hermione," Dumbledore eventually called.

Letting go of his arm for the first time, Hermione made her way to the front of the Hall. She was white as she whispered encouraging words to herself. Dumbledore placed the Hat on her head and the Hall waited.

It was a good few minutes before the Sorting Hat finally yelled, "Gryffindor!"

Disappointed flooded every part of Tom. He had been hoping for Slytherin, he had been silently begging for Hermione to be put there, but the Hat had obviously thought her to be better suited for Gryffindor.

Grinning from ear to ear, Hermione climbed down from the stool and made her way to the Gryffindor table.

Tom continued to wait. He chanced a glance at Hermione, who was seated in between a first year and someone who could have been a fourth year. She waved at him and gave him an encouraging smile.

Tom turned back to the front.

"Riddle, Tom, " Dumbledore announced.

Tom slowly walked to the stool and sat down. Dumbledore placed the enormous hat on his head and suddenly, every sound was drowned out. All he could hear was his own, heavy breathing and the Sorting Hat.

_Ah_, it began inside his head. _I know where to put you. It's obvious. You will be perfect for –_

_Gryffindor_, Tom begged silently. _Please put me in Gryffindor_. Not once had he ever considered another House other than Slytherin. The power and the glory he knew he would get from that House was momentarily put aside. He had only made one friend his whole life and he wasn't going to lose her.

_Gryffindor?_ the Hat questioned, sounding almost surprised. Hmm, let me take a look. _Courage, yes. Bravery, yes. Loyalty_... the Hat hesitated. _I do think you'll be much more suited for Slytherin. You're cunning, you're – _

_It has to be Gryffindor_, Tom answered. _Please._

_Very well_, the Hate replied instantly. "Gryffindor!"

There was a cheer from the Gryffindor table as Tom made his way over to them. It didn't feel right being there. These people seemed too... friendly.

With a final look over at the Slytherin table, he sat in between Hermione and the other first year. She smiled at him.

"It's wonderful we were put in the same House!" she exclaimed, not seeming to notice Tom's unhappiness.

"Yeah," he replied, staring at the empty gold plate in front of him. He had made his decision now. He just hoped it would be worth it. At least Dumbledore was the Head of House. That made him feel a little bit better. He liked Dumbledore.

Tom was unaware of the rest of the Sorting. Three girls and one more boy were put into Gryffindor and Professor Dippet – the Headmaster – gave a little speech and then somehow, they were surrounded by food.

He watched in wonder as students filled their plates with chicken, beef, pies and other things they never would have dared give them at the orphanage. When a plate was empty, it would magically refill itself. Tom made a note to find out how to do that. Refilling his plate would come in handy when he got hungry in the holidays.

"This is delicious," Hermione commented, picking at some carrot on her plate. "But I heard house elves cooked all this. I do hope they are paid for it."

"You mean... it's not magic?" Tom asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, of course not. Don't you remember reading in our books? Food is one of the few things which can't be created by magic. You can make it appear by magic, but you can't create it. It has to already exist."

Tom stopped listening after that. He was used to Hermione's lectures and know-it-all explanations. It had taken some time, but he had mastered blocking it out. He knew just as much as her about magic. He just wasn't interested in the finer details. That was boring.

Instead, he turned his attention once again to the front table where the teachers sat. Professor Dumbledore gave him a fleeting smile and then returned to the wizard beside him. He was a short, plump man with glasses.

"That's Professor Dumbledore," a boy across from Tom said, misreading his stare. "Great man, he is. He's famous, you know?"

"What for?"

"For defeating the darkest and most powerful wizard to ever exist... Grindelwald."

Tom looked back at Dumbledore. He didn't look like the type of person who was able to defeat a powerful wizard.

The boy seemed to read his expression. "Don't underestimate the man," he said.

"Who's that next to him?" Tom then questioned.

"Professor Slughorn. Head of Slytherin House and Potions teacher at Hogwarts. A bit of a pushover if you ask me. Will do anything for you with a little coaxing... and some Firewhisky." The boy grinned and then held out his hand. "Owen McKillop," he said. "Riddle, right?"

Tom nodded, but didn't take Owen's hand.

"Pleased to meet you," Owen said uncertainly before lowering his hand and returning to his friend beside him.

"That was rude," Hermione hissed in his ear.

Tom ignored her, instead watching Professor Slughorn. Head of Slytherin. No wonder he had been drawn to him. And maybe Potions was going to become his favourite subject, not Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Dessert replaced the chicken. There were gasps as first years examined the interesting sweets which lay before them. Tom and Hermione helped themselves to a piece of apple pie each. When they finished devouring the delicious treat, their plates vanished and returned moments later clean and new.

"Wow!" Hermione exclaimed. "So efficient."

Once all the plates had been cleaned, Professor Dippet got to his feet once more. He wished them a good night and then sent them off to bed.

There was a clatter as chairs scraped against floor and students made their way out of the Great Hall. It reminded Tom of the orphanage when there was only a little food left to share amongst twenty. People pushing against one another as they all tried to be the first ones out.

Tom was following the crowd when Hermione all of sudden stopped. "Oh no!" she cried.

"What?" Tom questioned.

"We don't know where the Common Room is."

Tom was about to reply, but then he heard a call of "First year Gryffindors, follow me!"

"This way," he said, grabbing her hand and pushing his way back through the crowd to where a girl with a P on her robes stood.

"Gryffindor?" she asked gruffly.

He and Hermione nodded. "Right, I knew we were missing two. This way, if you will?"

It was hard for the two of them to keep up with the older girl's long strides. They hurried through corridor after corridor, up staircase after staircase until finally, the Prefect stopped in front of a portrait of a fat lady.

Tom hadn't had much time to notice until now, but he realised the portraits were moving. He had done enough reading with Hermione to know that this was common in the wizarding world, but it still shocked him to actually see it.

"Hippogriff," the girl said and the portrait swung forward, revealing a room of maroon and gold – Gryffindor colours.

Tom fought the urge to gag. He had spent so long imagining himself sitting in a cold, dark room in the dungeons (where he knew the Slytherin common room was), he hadn't even considered he would actually be in one where a fire was already lit and older students were seated in armchairs.

"Just like I imagined it!" Hermione exclaimed, climbing through the portrait.

Tom followed her. _Yeah, just as awful_, he added silently.

"Girls dormitories are to the right, boy's to the left," the Prefect said. "Remember, no first years are to be wandering the corridors at night and don't be late for your first lessons. Goodnight everyone." With a brief smile, she exited to a staircase where Tom assumed lead to the dormitories.

"Well, goodnight," Hermione said. "I'll see you tomorrow." With a brief hug, she followed the Prefect to the staircase.

Tom made his way to the staircase as well, walking slowly up. He wasn't really sure where he was going, but he eventually found a door on the right which said 'First Years'. He opened it reluctantly to find five, four poster beds, all exactly the same. It was just like the orphanage.

One boy was already in there and in his pyjamas. He smiled at Tom and then got into one of the beds. Tom found his trunk near the bed beside the boy's. He too got changed and got into bed. It was surprisingly warm and extremely comfortable.

He settled down.

Well, he had made his decision. This was his family. The Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin, but he had chosen Gryffindor. He'd have to live with that for the next seven years.

* * *

_**Don't forget to take two minutes to leave a review. That would be really great!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**The joys of being on semester break! I can update my fics WITHOUT feeling guilty for doing no other work.**_

_**Thank you all so much for your reviews. 27 for 2 chapters! Woah! Please keep them coming :)**_

* * *

"Oh, A History of Magic first!" Hermione exclaimed over breakfast the next morning. Tom barely noticed her as he ate his cereal. Professor Dumbledore had just gone through the Gryffindor table, handing out timetables.

Tom wasn't at all impressed. The two subjects he was most looking forward to – Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts – weren't until after the weekend. He was going to have to get through A History of Magic and Transfiguration before he could enjoy those ones.

"I wonder what they'll teach us in there," Hermione continued, seeming not to notice his disinterest. "It will be fascinating, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Tom mumbled. "I guess."

"What's the matter?" Hermione questioned. "Didn't you sleep well? I sure didn't. It's strange being in a new bed and all, but I'm sure we'll get used to it."

Tom ignored her, chancing a glance over at the Slytherin table. The first years already seemed to have made friends with one another. Jealousy swelled inside of him. He could have been with them – he wanted to be with them. The Slytherin bunch seemed less... intelligent than the Gryffindors. Surely, his brains and charm in the Slytherin House would have made him popular. They would have looked up to him; thought him a genius.

The other boys who shared his dormitory with weren't like that at all. Gryffindor wasn't the House for stupidity. He and Hermione was enough to prove that.

"Hmmm, we have it with the Slytherin's, though," Hermione was in his ear again.

"So?"

"So? Don't they scare you? Especially the older ones? I heard their parents practice Dark Magic, so they probably know it too. I already saw one of the seventh years Curse a poor, unsuspecting Hufflepuff. He thought it was hilarious."

Tom straightened slightly at Hermione's words. _Dark Magic_. During their days at the orphanage, that had been the part he had been most interested in. Hermione had pointedly refused to read into it, so he had been forced to study the books under covers at night. It was fascinating, learning of all the magic that could inflict pain on others. Already, ideas to get back at the children who had called him a freak were forming in his head.

Once he and Hermione returned, they'd never be teased again. He was sure of it. They wouldn't be freaks, they would be genius'.

"How much do you think _they_ know?" Tom asked casually. He knew Hermione wouldn't be impressed if she thought he was actually interested.

"Quite a bit," Hermione stated confidently. "I heard them talking about it before. It's disgusting."

Tom wasn't sure if disgusting was the right word, but he merely returned to his cereal, downing the rest of it in three mouthfuls. Like it had the night before, his bowl cleaned itself, returning as if it has never been used.

"I need to learn how to do that," he said, getting to his feet. "Will be easy getting through chores at the orphanage."

Hermione frowned. "That's cheating. Think of the other children who won't be able to use magic."

Tom shrugged. He didn't care about them. Anything that would make his life better at that wretched place, he was willing to discover. It wasn't his fault he had been born with magic and they hadn't. Besides, he didn't want to be like them – he never had. He wanted to be better.

"I'll see you in History of Magic," he said. "There's something I have to do."

"Okay," Hermione replied. "But don't be late."

Tom waved her off as he strode across the Great Hall, not letting the Slytherin first year out of his sight. He caught up with him just as he was heading to what was probably the Slytherin common room.

"Hey," he called.

The boy turned around and Tom recognised him as the Carrow boy.

"What do you want?" he demanded in a squeaky voice. His face was rather lopsided and Tom felt it was safe to say he was ugly.

"I was just wondering..." Tom began. "Do you know anything about 'Dark Magic'?"

Carrow snorted. "What are you, a Mudblood?" His lopsided face grew even more crooked when he smiled. "Anyway, as my parents say, only Muggle-loving freaks call it Dark Magic. We like to call it _Advanced Magic_."

"So you do know it?" Tom questioned.

"Yes, why do you care?"

Tom's original plan had been to ask the boy to teach him, but he quickly thought better of it. The idea of someone actually _teaching_ him wasn't appealing at all. He'd have to be clever about it and that was something he was actually good at. Being clever.

"Well, I happen to know quite a bit about it, too," he lied. "And I was just wondering if you could meet me after class and we can practice together. It's not like they're going to teach us it, are they?"

Carrow smirked again. "Why would a _Gryffindor_ want to use it? Aren't you all... loyal or whatever they claim? And you hang around that Mudblood, too."

That was the second time Carrow had used the word _Mudblood_. Tom had no idea what it meant, but he was certain it wasn't nice. There was no point asking, though. Carrow would surely laugh at him.

He chose to go on with his original plan. "So, do you want to practice?"

Carrow hesitated, glancing over his shoulder, seeming to make sure no one was listening. He then shrugged. "Well, I don't know _that_ much, but if you want to, I guess. Maybe you can show me a thing or two."

Tom hid his excitement, instead, choosing to nod.

"Room of Requirement, three o'clock?" Carrow asked.

Whatever the Room of Requirement was, Tom made a mental note to find out before three o'clock. He nodded to show his agreement and then made his way up the staircase, in search of his first classroom.

He now wished he had paid more attention to his timetable, which was currently in Hermione's possession. History of Magic was on the third floor. That was all he could remember.

"Lost, Gryffindor?"

Tom spun around in what he thought to be a third-floor corridor. He was following a group of Slytherin girls, which he hoped would lead him in the right direction.

The student that faced him was a tall, slim boy – probably a fifth year. A golden 'P' sat perfectly on his robes, indicating his authority as a prefect.

"No," Tom answered, defiantly. He didn't need anyone to tell him where to go. He'd find the class himself, or he wouldn't go at all.

"You _look_ lost," the prefect teased.

Tom now realised he was a Slytherin. It explained his nasty expression and automatic disdain for anyone in Gryffindor colours. He once again pushed aside the wave of jealousy that washed over him. He had made his decision and he would have to live with it.

"Well, I'm not."

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

If she wasn't the reason he was in the stupid Gryffindor House to begin with, Tom would have pretended not to know who Hermione was as she came galloping down the corridor with books and parchment held closely to her chest. He chose to glare at her instead.

"Our class is on the third floor," she told him matter-of-factly. "Didn't you read your timetable?"

"I was exploring," Tom stated bluntly.

The prefect smirked, which just irritated Tom even further.

"Come on, we're going to be late," Hermione told him, seeming to not notice the Slytherin standing before her. "Luckily I came looking for you, or you'd never get there." Shifting her books to one arm, she used her other to take his hand and drag him away.

"Lucky your girlfriend came to your rescue!" the Slytherin called after them. "First years shouldn't be wandering the corridors alone."

Tom wanted nothing more than to turn around and curse the prefect into oblivion. But, he'd have to wait until he knew how to make curses first. That way, he could do it properly and effectively.

Hermione got them to the right classroom just as Professor Binns emerged from the blackboard, his transparent figure eyeing every student half-heartedly.

"Oh, a ghost for a teacher!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. "This surely will be interesting. He must know so much."

However, she was quickly proved wrong the moment Professor Binns opened his mouth. For the duration of the lesson, he droned on and on about nonsense. Tom looked around, noticing heads on desks and bleary eyed students. The only one who was _actually_ taking notes, was Hermione. Her quill scratched endlessly on her two-foot parchment.

Professor Binns seemed not to notice the class' inattention. He ploughed on with his story of when the first records of magic were recorded.

"That was fascinating!" Hermione exclaimed as her eyes glanced over her notes after the lesson.

Tom thought otherwise. If that was anything to go by, maybe Hogwarts wasn't going to be as exciting as he had expected, or hoped.

"I never knew magic was so _old_," Hermione continued as they made their way to Transfiguration. Tom silently begged it would be more interesting than the previous lesson. And he was hoping it would be over quickly. He still needed to find where the Room of Requirement was.

"What's the Room of Requirement?" he asked Hermione as they sat at the back of the Transfiguration classroom. This time, it was with the Hufflepuffs.

"It's just a legend," Hermione began. "That a room at Hogwarts exists which is equipped for the user's needs. So, if you are looking for a book, then you will find one in there."

"_Anything_ you need?" Tom questioned, hiding his sudden enthusiasm. Carrow seemed to think the room existed, so surely, it did. His mind searched for all the things the room could be used for. A sudden desire to find it overwhelmed him.

"Yes, anything," Hermione said. "But it's just a legend; a story. I doubt it exists. It's not possible, really."

Transfiguration went by slower than History of Magic. Although Professor McGonagall made it interesting, Tom was determined for three o'clock to come. Every few minutes, he would find himself glancing up at the big clock, waiting for the lesson to be over.

"Excellent work, Miss Granger!" McGonagall exclaimed after Hermione gave an almost perfect demonstration of enlarging a leaf. She had been the only one in the class who had managed it so far.

Hermione beamed.

"Okay, Mr Riddle, it's your turn."

Tom looked around the classroom. All eyes were on him; he had their full attention. He smiled slightly and tapped the leaf with his wand, muttering the spell. Just like Hermione had managed, his leaf grew bigger. McGonagall seemed delighted.

"Fantastic!" she said. "You two really are exceptional. Such an honour having you in Gryffindor."

Hermione thanked McGonagall, clearly proud of her effort. Tom merely nodded in acknowledgement.

Gena Vance, a first year Gryffindor leaned across Hermione. "You guys must be smart," she said. "My sister said McGonagall doesn't give compliments unless you truly deserve it."

Hermione blushed, but didn't say anything.

_Finally_, the lesson finished. Tom rushed to the Great Hall, leaving Hermione to catch up, and downed his lunch in five minutes. Their final lesson for the day was Charms. Of what he had read on the subject, Tom didn't think charms would be of any use to him.

_Not to get back the other kids_, he thought.

They learnt basic charms which he and Hermione once again mastered by the end of the lesson. Tom was sure by the end of the week, they'd have a reputable status among both students and teachers. Already, the other students were turning to them for help.

"You must be dumb if you can't do it," Tom said to a small, first year Hufflepuff on their way out of the classroom.

Hermione gasped. "Tom, that's really mean," she said. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll learn soon," she then told the Hufflepuff girl.

They walked back to the common room in silence after that. Hermione seemed to be annoyed with his comment to the Hufflepuff. Tom didn't care. He had fifteen minutes to get from the common room to the Room of Requirement. That was the only thing on his mind.

"I'll see you at dinner," he said to Hermione as he dumped his bag on an empty armchair.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked in a demanding manner. "We have so much homework already."

Tom waved her off. "I'll do it later." And before she could say anything more, he disappeared through the portrait hole and started along the corridor.

* * *

_**Don't forget to leave a review. I would really appreciate it :)**_


	4. Chapter 4

It appeared Carrow had been making fun of him when he had suggested they meet in the Room of Requirement, because wherever Tom looked, whatever turn he took, there was no such room.

He searched for what was surely and hour with no luck. He looked inside every classroom in the hope that it would give him some indication that he was in the right direction. Maybe Hermione knew where it was, if it existed at all.

But he would never ask her. She would only want to know why he was looking for it. He guessed she wouldn't be too happy if she knew.

It wasn't until he had finally relented to the fact that he wasn't going to find it (he would get Carrow back later for misleading him) and was on his way back to the common room, when the young Slytherin approached him.

"I thought you wanted to practice, Riddle," he said. "Or were you too chicken to do it after all?"

Tom glared at the boy. Carrow was making fun of him. Did he not realise that he had spent his whole life being made fun of and that he knew how to defend himself?

"You lied to me," Tom hissed. "There is no Room of Requirement."

Carrow raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not a Mudblood?" he questioned.

"I'm not a... _Mudblood_," Tom retorted, although for all he knew he could have been, whatever that was.

Carrow shrugged. "Whatever. Well, it's too late to practice now. We'll have to wait until tomorrow. This time wait for me..." he studied Tom, that irritating smirk plastered across his face. "You're strange," he added idly.

Fury burned inside of Tom and he clenched his fists. He could knock the stuck-up Slytherin off his feet with one hit. He would be sent to the hospital for a month.

But the last thing he wanted to do was make enemies with the one House he actually felt he belonged to. He didn't need them to be his friends – he had Hermione – he just needed them to appreciate him.

"Tomorrow after class," he said through gritted teeth.

Carrow nodded. "I'll see you then. I'll meet you in the Great Hall, as it appears you don't know where the Room of Requirement is."

Tom knew the boy was berating him, but he chose to ignore it. Now was not the time to get him back.

He made his way back to the common room in five minutes. It was only a few corridors from where he had been talking to Carrow. He had almost forgotten about Hermione and homework until both were in his face before he had finished climbing through the portrait hole.

"Where have you been?" she demanded. "It's almost time for dinner and we have so much to do." She flicked through the pieces of parchment in her hands. "I can't believe they expect us to write so much after one day. I can't begin to imagine what it will be like when we do our OWLs, or NEWTs." She followed Tom over to the armchair where he had dumped his school bag earlier that day. "You should get started, Tom," she continued. "Especially on the History of Magic one. Professor Binns wants it in by tomorrow."

Tom waved her away. "I'll do it after dinner," he replied absently. It shouldn't take him too long to do it. After all, what they learnt in class (when he had been listening), he had spent the summer reading about.

Hermione watched him, shook her head and the disappeared up the girl's staircase, probably to complain to her fellow girls about how useless he was. Really, that was the last thing on Tom's mind.

He had been so excited to learn some magic they refused to teach at Hogwarts – he had been looking forward to it all day – and now he would have to wait until the next day. He should have just asked where it was. Hermione would have.

_But Hermione's not like me_, he thought. She was placed in Gryffindor for a reason; he was only there because he asked. He knew he belonged in Slytherin; he had known since he had read about the Houses.

Gryffindor just wasn't for him.

Hermione came back a while later, a look of irritation on her face. "Are you coming to dinner?" she asked.

Tom nodded and got up from the armchair.

Hermione marched out of the common room without a second glance at him. Was she really angry with him because he hadn't done his homework? It was their first day. Surely the teachers weren't expecting them to be able to conjure a rabbit out of a hat.

They could barely wave a wand – well that was what they thought. Tom and Hermione had of course been practicing over the summer. The teachers didn't need to know that, though.

OOO

The next day went by as slowly as the first, Tom eager to learn something that didn't involve practicing the same spell over and over again. Why did they not have Defence Against the Dark Arts yet? Who's stupid idea was it to schedule that for later? It was all he wanted to learn.

As soon as the final class for the day ended, Tom jumped to his feet and dashed out of the classroom. He didn't give a second glance to Hermione, or respond to her 'where are you going?' call. He had to find Carrow.

As promised, the Slytherin was waiting for him in the Great Hall. Students were making their way back to their common rooms, more focused on the amount of homework they had already, than two first years heading in the opposite direction.

"Not many people know about the Room of Requirement," Carrow said as they reached the fourth floor of the castle. "It's on the seventh floor and only appears to those who need it. Many people think it's just a myth, but I know for a fact it's there. I was there yesterday, waiting for you."

Tom was too interested in the idea of a room appearing only to those who needed it to care about Carrow's dig at him. What did that mean? That, if he really needed a place to practice the Dark Arts then he could and no one would find him?

Magic truly was an interesting prospect.

Carrow lead the way to the seventh floor and stopped in front of a blank wall. Tom looked around. He really needed the Room, but there were no doors around. Was Carrow mocking him again?

"Stand back, Riddle," Carrow said and he began pacing back and forth. Out of nowhere a door materialised and grew until it was large enough to fit two eleven year old boys through.

Carrow grinned. "Some of the other Slytherins told me about it. It's pretty cool, eh?"

Tom opened the door and inside was a room large enough to fit at least ten students in. It was dark and cold, much like the Slytherin common room, Tom imagined.

"I've asked some fifth years to come and assist," Carrow continued. "They should be here soon. We obviously don't know that much yet. I've only ever watched my parents. The Unforgivables are probably the hardest to learn, but also the most fun."

"Unfor - ?" Tom stopped. He had already told Carrow he knew of that kind of thing. Asking what an Unforgivable was would be stupid. And he wasn't stupid. "Yeah, I've always wanted to learn them."

A short while later, the three fifth year Slytherins (two boys and a girl) arrived. They studied Tom with distaste.

"Well, I guess all Gryffindors can't be too bad," the girl said. "What made you want to learn the Dark Arts?"

"He's a bit odd," Carrow interrupted before Tom could answer. "He claims to know everything and _not_ be a Mudblood, but he's a bit dumb if you ask me. Keeps asking stupid questions that purebloods, or half-bloods should know."

Tom contained the anger that had suddenly reignited itself inside of him. Carrow was talking about him as if he wasn't there. He was not _dumb_. Once again, the thought of throwing Carrow against the wall was very satisfying.

"They never were the most intelligent bunch, Gryffindors," one of the boys replied. He sneered.

"He hangs around with that Mudblood, too," Carrow continued. "A really annoying one who thinks she knows everything."

Tom knew he had to find out what that word meant. He'd go to the library afterwards.

The girl waved him away. "Well, that doesn't matter. He wants us to teach him some magic that is better and more rewarding than any of the rubbish they teach here. That's all that matters."

Tom straightened. The girl seemed to actually regard him higher than anyone else had since arriving at Hogwarts.

"What'd you say your name was?" she asked.

"Tom Riddle," he replied.

She didn't give him her name and frankly, Tom didn't care.

"Alright then, Riddle. Let me guess, you're under the impression that the Dark Arts is something you just wave your wand at and it causes harm to the victim?"

Yes, that was what he had been hoping to learn.

Carrow sniggered.

"Well, I can tell you, Riddle, that there is more to it than wand-waving. Yeah, we have the Unforgivable Curses, but there is also things like potions which can also cause pain."

Tom listened intently. Why had he not paid more attention in Potions? Maybe Slughorn had mentioned something like that.

"But, we'll go through the Unforgivable Curses first seeing as none of us have any potions with us. Face me, Riddle and take out your wand."

Tom obeyed. It would be the first time he would use is wand for something other than a Summoning Charm or Levitating Charm. What use were those on the children at the orphanage? He could maybe leave one on the roof for a few days, but that was boring.

"We're no experts at these, Riddle, as we're only fifth years. But these spells are something we have watched our parents use numerous times; sometimes on us if we're in trouble or they want us to do something. The first thing they tell us is 'you have to mean it'."

Tom meant it. Whatever it was, he would mean it. Those bullies at the orphanage were going to be afraid of him when he went back.

The girl pointed her wand at Tom. "The first one is the Cruciatus Curse – the torture Curse. _Crucio_."

Before he knew what was happening, unbearable pain filled every part of his body. It was nothing like he had ever felt. It seeped through him and he thought he was going to die. He didn't want to die. Not now, not ever.

As quickly as it had come, the pain ceased, leaving Tom panting on the floor. The Slytherins watched him with humour.

"And that, Riddle, is the Cruciatus Curse used by a fifth year. The full strength one is much worse."

Tom got to his feet, refusing to show any reaction to the spell. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of knowing they had hurt him.

"You alright?" the girl asked.

"Fine," Tom answered stiffly.

The girl smiled. "Great! Next one is the Imperius Curse – mind control. I'm going to let Perry, here, show you that one. He's better at it than most of others at Hogwarts."

One of the Slytherin boys stepped forward with a malicious grin. Tom suspected he wasn't going to be as nice about it as the girl.

"Don't worry, this one's painless," he said.

It was only then Tom realised he must have shown fear as the Slytherin faced him. He sobered instantly, keeping a straight expression.

The boy directed his wand right at Tom. "_Imperio_!"

Tom felt exactly the same. There was no pain. He was him. Except something was telling him to take off his robes. His hands began to unbutton his shirt as if they had a mind of their own.

_They're trying to humiliate me_, he thought and stopped.

_Keep going, Riddle_, a voice inside his head told him.

Tom made to continue, but stopped himself again.

_No, I will not do it_, he said to the voice.

_Come on._

_No!_

His free will returned and he was back, the four Slytherins watching him with expressions of wonder.

The Slytherin who had tried to control him was staring at him with his mouth slightly open.

"Very impressive, Riddle," the girl said. "Not many people can fight the Imperius Curse. It's nigh impossible for a first year to do it."

A sense of overwhelming pride filled him. It had been hard to fight the first time, but once he had said no once, it was easier the other times.

"I'd like to see you against a fully trained wizard, though," the girl added.

"Onto the next one," Tom said eagerly.

"_Avarda Kedavra_."

"The Killing Curse."

For some reason, that one appealed to Tom the most. If he mastered the Killing Curse, no one would trouble him ever again.

"We need a rat or something," Carrow said.

And a rat appeared.

The Slytherin who had used the Imperius Curse on him, turned is wand on the rat. "Avarda Kedavra!" he said.

The rat dropped dead where it was.

Tom smiled gleefully. That spell could kill someone just like that!

"You really should be a Slytherin, Riddle," the girl observed. "No Gryffindor gets that excited about the Killing Curse."

Her words made Tom long to go back in time and change what had happened. He would have been put in Slytherin if he hadn't asked otherwise. Hermione... she was the only reason he was where he was and unhappy.

But she was Hermione. His only friend.

But she was still the reason for his unhappiness.

"Wanna try them, Riddle?" Carrow asked.

Tom nodded.

"Alright, I think Perry will be willing to take the hit from you."

Tom pointed his wand at Perry. He thought of all the times he had wanted to hurt the kids at the orphanage for one thing or another. All the times they had called him a freak, excluded him from their games. He thought of how much he hated them, how much he hated his parents for abandoning him, leaving him in that place. He glared at Perry, imagining that all of that was the Slytherin. "_Crucio_!"

Perry jumped, stifled a cry of pain and then laughed. "For someone who can fight the Imperius Curse, I was expecting something a little more painful," he said.

"_Crucio_!"

He laughed again, this time with the others.

"Just takes practice, Riddle. Try the Imperius."

"_Imperio!_" That one worked a lot better. He knew he had Perry. If he wanted him to crush his skull against the wall, then he knew Perry would do it.

_Dance_, he instructed.

Perry started a strange jig in front of him, much to the amusement of the others. Tom was surprised he was able to control every move of Perry's and how easy it was.

He brought the Slytherin back. Perry looked around, slightly dazed and then smiled. "Nice."

Tom didn't have time for pleasantries. The next one was what he was most looking forward to. He wished he had another rat and one appeared.

He didn't even hesitate. "_Avarda Kedavra_!"

The rat didn't die instantly like Perry's had. It writhed in pain for a few moments, before finally stilling.

Tom lowered his wand.

"You _must_ be a pureblood," Carrow commented. He stepped forward and held out his hand. "Sorry I thought you were another dumb Gryffindor."

Tom didn't accept Carrow's offer of friendship, instead choosing to nod.

Carrow stepped away, looking slightly offended.

"I thought this would be a one off," the Slytherin girl said. "But you've impressed me, Riddle. Meet here again on Saturday at ten. I'd like to see what else you can do."

Tom nodded and picked up his school bag.

He left before the others, hurrying back to the common room as fast as he could. There were only two other students when he arrived and Hermione wasn't one of them.

He didn't see her for the rest of that evening, either. She wasn't down for dinner and when he arrived back, she was still missing.

He'd have to find her tomorrow to tell her what had happened. Surely she would be impressed once he told her that he had already mastered the Imperius Curse. For now, though, he just wanted to practice what he had learnt. The other boys in his dormitory would have to do as practice dummies until Saturday.

* * *

_**Thank you all for your lovely reviews. For something I have been feeling incredibly uncomfortable writing, I'm actually surprised by the number of reviews and favourites and alerts. It's keeping me going.**_

_**So, I know this is meant to be Hermione/Tom and I swear I will get there eventually. I just, for some reason, have so many ideas in my head for this fic now.**_

_**For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't forget to leave a review :)**_


	5. Chapter 5

Although he had anticipated praise from Hermione, Tom was sorely disappointed. In fact, she looked more fearful than impressed once he had told her he could perform the Imperius Curse.

"Tom, that's really evil magic!" she cried, startling a few of the other students in the common room. "_Really_ evil! The Ministry have forbidden anyone to use it!"

Tom watched her, his face remaining expressionless. He had come to that conclusion himself. He didn't need anyone else telling him. Using that curse had given him power – he was in control. And the others were in awe of him. He'd barely started at Hogwarts, and already he was using magic that was well beyond his years.

"Tell me you won't do it again!" Hermione continued, obviously sensing something in him.

Tom didn't answer her.

"Tom!" she said.

"I won't do it again," he promised mechanically, just to shut her up. Her reaction really hadn't been what he was expecting. She was smart – her intelligence was almost rivalling his own – surely she of all people would understand what that was like. To be smarter than anyone else, to have power beyond their imagining.

Any hope he had had of the two of them working together was quickly deflated. He'd have to do it alone.

Seeming satisfied by his answer, despite it being a lie, Hermione nodded, and returned to the book she had open in her lap.

For a while, Tom sat there, staring at the crackling fire, but that was too boring. He jumped to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Hermione questioned, barely lifting her head.

"For a walk," he told her.

She nodded.

Tom climbed through the portrait hole, and made his way down the silent corridor. Dinner was in half an hour, but Tom didn't care. He had to find Carrow again; or Perry. They would understand.

He passed a few students along the way, but the corridors were rather empty. That made sense. Everyone was back in their common rooms, probably enjoying their free time before dinner. Tom wondered what Carrow was doing.

_Maybe I could go to the Slytherin common room_, he thought, and a small amount of happiness welled inside of him. He knew the common room was somewhere near the dungeons. Surely he'd be able to find it. Wouldn't there be a portrait or something, he'd have to say a password, and then he was let in?

Still, even when he did find the right place, it was more difficult getting in than he had expected. Finding the location had been easy enough, but he now stared at a blank wall.

"Cruciatus?" he tried. The wall remained. "Crucio? Slytherin? Salazar?" No matter what he tried, the wall remained a wall.

"Try _Mudblood_."

At that word, a door appeared, and swung open on its own accord. Tom spun around to see Carrow standing there, smiling.

"What brings you here, Tom?" he asked, stepping past, and entering. He beckoned for Tom to join him, which he gladly obliged. A small smile appeared on his face at the sight of the room. It was everything he had thought it would be. Students weren't sitting by warm fires with books in their laps, they were throwing spells at each other for fun. Those who did have books, well, they were more interesting than any of the ones Hermione read. Their books were about Dark Magic, the threats of Muggleborns on wizarding society, and he even saw one that gave a history of Dark wizards.

This was much better than Gryffindor. Perhaps he'd talk to the headmaster and see if he could change.

"Tom!"

Tom turned to face Carrow.

"Why are you here?"

Tom didn't bother answering, but continued to move into the room, looking around. Carrow followed.

"It's neat, isn't it? I mean, my father told me, but I never imagined…." He paused for a sentimental effect. Tom ignored it, causing him to continue. "What's it like in the Gryffindor common room?"

"Hideous," Tom answered absently.

Carrow chuckled. "No surprises," he said. ""Anyway, I don't think I ever introduced myself. My name's –"

"Carrow," Tom interrupted. "You told me already."

Carrow seemed rather taken aback; his mouth moved up and down like a fish, showing his obvious stupidity. "It's Amycus, actually," he said.

Tom finally turned to face the boy, looking him up and down. "I like Carrow better," he stated plainly. "I'll call you Carrow."

Carrow looked shocked beyond anything, as he trailed after Tom, who was now searching under every nook and cranny of the Slytherin common room. "O-okay," he stumbled. "If that's what you prefer…."

"It is." Tom made for an archway, which he assumed would take him to the dormitories. Carrow gripped his arm.

"That's the girls'," he hissed.

"So?" Tom shook the boy off, and went to go again. Carrow stopped him once more.

"Don't they have anything in Gryffindor that happens if a boy goes up to the girls' dormitories?"

Truthfully, Tom had never tested it to know if it did, but he shrugged anyway, and this time began making his way up the short staircase. He was halfway up when it happened. Suddenly, a loud, ear-piercing screech filled their ears. There were shouts, and doors banging, as people came out of their rooms to see who or what had caused the noise. The next thing Tom knew, he was sliding down the staircase, and landing firmly on the hard ground, knocking Carrow over in the process.

Laughter filled the room.

"Carrow, who's your friend?" one older boy asked, roaring with laughter.

"Thought you'd take a peek, did you?" a girl's voice cried.

Getting to his feet, Tom was fuming. What had happened? And how dare Carrow not warn him? These people were laughing at him, and he didn't like it. Even Perry, who had held great respect for him the night before, was doubled over in fits of laughter.

Tom's arm twitched to his pocket, where his wand was.

_No_, he eventually decided, _he's not worth it_.

"No Gryffindors in here!" someone cried. "Get out, you filth!"

"Come on, you should go," Carrow urged, pushing him towards to entrance. "Sorry about that."

Tom brushed him off, swinging the door open. He could not believe something like that had happened to him, especially when he had finally found the one place where he belonged. Everyone thought he was a joke now; just a mere, powerless Gryffindor first year.

He didn't speak a word to Carrow as he walked away, his fists clenched, and anger coursing through him. He'd show them he was no powerless first year; he'd show them what he'd shown Perry and the others last night, and his fellow roommates as well. He'd show them all how powerful he was.

Firstly, though, he needed to speak to the headmaster.

Gryffindor certainly wasn't where he belonged.

OOO

"I'm sorry, Mr Riddle, but once the Sorting Hat has made its decision, it cannot be reversed." Professor Dippet sat opposite Tom, his hands clamped together, and his expression emotionless.

"But, sir…" Tom began, "the Sorting Hat didn't put me in the right House. I wanted to be in Gryffindor, because I wanted to be with Hermione Granger. That was the only reason. However, now I have made acquaintances with those in Slytherin, and I've changed my mind. I want to be put in Slytherin."

The humiliation over what had happened earlier was still burning strong inside of him. He could not have these people thinking him some fool because he hadn't realised what would happen if he tried to enter the girls' dormitories. He'd only wanted to see what was there; that was the only reason.

Professor Dippet shook his head. "Mr Riddle, you may believe otherwise, but the Sorting Hat only places one in a House which they belong. Whether you asked or not, if the Hat didn't think you would do well in Gryffindor, it wouldn't have put you there."

Tom wanted to argue that it was just a hat, but he didn't think that would help his case at all. He needed to find another way.

"Thank you, sir," he said, nodding as if he understood. "I understand that if you could assist, then you would. Sorry for wasting your time." He made the leave the headmaster's office, but as Tom anticipated, Dippet called him back at the last moment.

"Is there a reason you wish to be in Slytherin?" he asked.

Tom paused at the door, turning to face his professor. He nodded slowly. "There is, sir," he said, "but they're reasons I don't wish to share just yet." He saw the realisation in Dippet's eyes. He thought it was some reason only an eleven year old could conjure.

"Very well, Mr Riddle. Well, you best be back to your common room now. Dinner will be shortly."

Tom thanked the headmaster, and then exited the office, a new plan already formatting in his mind. Gryffindors had a reputation for being reckless and careless; it was about time he put that test to good use.

He would just have to be clever about it.

* * *

_**So I've finally gotten off my butt and decided to write the next chapter. I'm determined to finish this, though it's not the top of my priority, so chapters may come very infrequently. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this, and I'd really appreciate your feedback.**_


End file.
